


lost on the way home

by poalimal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fic in the Time of Quarantine, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: Never felt like a vacation, when they came here.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	lost on the way home

We shouldn't, Gabe wanted to say. 

He thought of saying it, at least - if there was a time and a place for making out like a couple of assholes, it certainly wasn't during dinner at his cornhusk in-laws, in the dark cellar beneath the dining room - but then Jack slid his palm up the back of his neck, through the short shaved hair at the back of his head; firm and soft and certain, like wind off a wave on the ocean. Like rain, like ice or snow or smoke, Gabe looked at his husband, and he thought, I'll always come back to you. 

Concrete walls not made for heat stood unyielding at his back - cold - even through the borrowed, too-tight shirt Jack managed to scrounge up after they'd helped his Ma in the garden. Gabe had stood in the shower all those hours ago, washing the soil and smell of sun from beneath his fingers, watching the heat bumps on his shoulders bloom; and it was like he could _hear_ Jack thinking, right outside the bathroom door - wanting to come in, just to be near him; not wanting to cause any kind of fuss with his father. 

Gabe always felt laid low, here at the farm: tired and bruised, achy and pent. Never felt like a vacation, when they came here. Sure, there was ample food and sun and rest, and it was all free. And it wasn't enough.

It was the way Jack watched Gabe outside, careful with his Ma nearby, as indulgent as her tolerance would allow - his straw hat dipping low over his eyes, his mouth uncertain, his shoulders strained. It was the zinc he let Gabe smear on his nose, laughing in the corner of the guest room with the blinds down - you know you always burn! Gabe said. It was the careful kiss Jack smudged onto the wrist he caught: I know, baby, I know. 

It was the way Jack felt like a stranger whenever his father was near, even though both of his parents had come to the wedding. The way he called his father 'Sir' even though he was pushing 40 - the way Gabe made sure to call _Sir_ by his first name. It was the way Jack had stolen away, his first Christmas at Gabe's parents', when all the nieces and nephews and cousins and kids were shrieking over presents, and Gabe's sister Rocky was teasing the two of them about setting a date - the way he'd sat stiffly on Gabe's old twin size bed and just cried. Didn't push Gabe away or try to hide from him. Just cried. I don't know what's gotten into me, he'd said, bewildered. Gabe just held his hand; just held his hand and blinked hard.

The way he opened Gabe up so quietly last night - kissing him, breathing hard through his nose like there wasn't enough air - the way he flinched at each creak of the springs. The way he sunk into Gabe, till it felt like every part of his body was covered, pushed down into the mattress, slow and soothed.

It was the way Jack never lied about Gabe, the way he never lied about who Gabe was to him; the way it seemed like his parents just wanted him to lie about himself.

From the top of the cellar stairs, Jack's father John opened the door and let down some light. 'How we doing with the wine down there?' he called.

Jack pulled away and froze. _We shouldn't have done this_ was written in big guilty block letters all over his face.

Gabe tightened his grip on Jack's shoulders, and looked at him carefully in the light; and he saw the fear that remained. 

We're not doing anything wrong, Gabe should've said. You don't have to be scared, he should've said.

Instead he just rested his forehead against his husband's, and said in a low voice: 'You and me, huh?'

And Jack laughed, and relaxed, and kissed him again. 'Yea,' he said. His father's steps sounded on the stair. 'You and me.'

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Chromeo / Solange song.


End file.
